


Christmas with Misha

by CLeighWrites



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Movies, Christmas Party, Dom Misha Collins, Established Misha Collins/Reader, F/M, Hot Chocolate, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mild Smut, Playful Misha Collins, Teasing, Tickle Fights, interrupted smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLeighWrites/pseuds/CLeighWrites
Summary: You and Misha prepare for a night of Christmas fun with his castmates





	Christmas with Misha

**Author's Note:**

> _This was written for @sorenmarie87’s (Tumblr) “Christmas With…” Writing Challenge; I chose the Misha aesthetic and the quote, “How many Christmas sweaters do you own?” For the sake of this story, Misha is not married to Vicki, and Danneel and Gen aren’t mentioned. No hate or disrespect toward any of the amazing wives of our boys intended, they are incredible women._

“Misha! Come on, everything’s ready. They’re going to get here soon!” You and Misha, with the rest of his Supernatural cast, had been planning different events for Christmas to celebrate before everyone left for the winter hiatus.

With the boys busy shooting, and Misha extra busy with his charitable contributions and holiday incentives with Random Acts, it was important to unwind and plan time to enjoy the holidays with friends. Jensen had orchestrated a caroling expedition, Jared had everyone write out letters to each other Secret Santa style, and Misha and yourself had decided to do Christmas cookie decorating, a Hot Chocolate Bar, and a Christmas movie marathon; all of the holiday essentials. The house was decorated to the nines, everything had been touched by the season. The lights outside the house, the tree in the living room, the pillows, the pictures on the walls, and, especially, the dishes for the evening were all quintessentially, if not excessively, Christmas.

After checking the sitting area for seasonal pillows and blankets, and making sure all of the movies were ready to go, you busied yourself making some finishing touches to the layout of the cookies and the choices for decorations, and made sure that all the labels were facing the right way on the jars for the Hot Chocolate Bar. Your most comfortable red dress was fitting perfectly around your curves and your hair was staying in place; all that was left was Misha.

“Misha!” you called again, then turned to be face-to-chest with the man himself.

“What? I’m right here,” he laughed at you, holding your shoulders to steady you.

“Well, you weren’t-” you finally registered what he was wearing and your eyes grew three sizes too big, “How many Christmas sweaters do you own?” Since December first he had worn a different, heinous, sweater every day, you had no idea where he was keeping them all.

“As many as I want,” he smiled down at you before taking a turn, “Do you like it?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing outright at the overgrown child before you, “I can’t say that you’re not dressed for the season, but we decided against the Ugly Sweater Party.”

“You think it’s ugly?” He mocked offense and lowered his gaze at you.

You backed away, knowing full well what was about to happen, “I didn’t say that.”

As quickly as you turned his hands were on you, fingers digging into your most ticklish spots. You flailed and struggled, in vain, to get out of his grasp. You were screaming in laughter when he stilled his fingers and kept his hands on your hips.

He nuzzled into your neck and breathed into your ear, “Still think my sweater is ugly?”

His fingers started to trace your hips and your mind went a little fuzzy, “Nope, it’s the greatest Christmas sweater of all time.”

You turned in his arms and looked up into the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. His lips were turned into a wicked grin as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. You closed your eyes and pressed your toes into the floor to deepen the kiss. He hummed a laugh and reached down to grab you by your thighs, turning you easily to sit on the counter top. You hiked your dress up to your knees so that you could wrap your legs around his hips as he dove in to assault your neck with his sinful lips. With your eyes shut and your hand in his hair, you lost track of time.

Both of you nearly jumped when the doorbell sounded and you heard Jared and Jensen call out to you from the opening door. Misha groaned and rested his head on your collarbone while you both caught your breath.

“We’re in here,” you called out as you tried to shove Misha back so that you could hop off the counter.

“We’ll pick this back up later,” Misha’s voice was a low growl in your ear, causing your knees to weaken as you landed on your feet.

“Promises, promises,” you grinned at him before you turned to greet your guests.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't be shy, let me know what you think!


End file.
